Lately, life has asked me to practice a deep kind of trust—not just in my studio, but in my heart.
As many of you know, I live a life deeply shaped by its challenges. Navigating the world as an amputee, managing chronic physical pain, and protecting my peace in a chaotic world requires a lot of intentional boundaries. I love my quiet, minimalist sanctuary. It is predictable. It is safe.
So, when the opportunity came to watch my beautiful granddaughter, Mack, a wave of profound anxiety hit me.
Facing the Fear
I’ll be honest: I was terrified. In my mind, the list of “what-ifs” was long and heavy. How would I handle the physical demands? When your body and your life have been through the fires of intense trauma, your nervous system is wired to protect you from overwhelming situations. My anxiety was shouting that this might be too much for me.
But I looked at that sweet little girl, and I knew I wanted to be an example for her. I wanted her to see a grandmother, “MiMa,” who doesn’t let fear dictate the boundaries of her world.
The Wonder in the Challenge
Was it hard? Absolutely. There were moments of intense physical challenge, stretches of deep fatigue, and the constant, rapid pivoting that caring for a little soul requires.
But then, the magic happened. I found a deep, grounding wonder. Her sweet, angelic eyes and contagious, innocent smile had a beautiful way of stripping away the superficial noise of the world. She doesn’t care about past successes or modern anxieties; she cares about the texture of a silky tag, the sounds around us, and the absolute safety of being held.
Watching Mack navigate her world with pure innocence completely shifted my energy. I wasn’t just managing a difficult task; I was witnessing life right in front of me. I adapted, adjusted, and did it.
I came out on the other side profoundly whole. It was a reminder that my spirit is still fiercely resilient, and that sometimes, the things that cause us the most anxiety are the exact things that return us to our strength.
